Oh Sheesh Y'all
by Ana On Fire
Summary: A slightly tongue-in-cheek story about my favorite Office couple. Based on a dream I once had. You have been warned. It's Dwangela y'all! Or whateva.


**Oh Sheesh Y'all**

**Chapter One: 'Twas a Dream**

_Takes place in the future, after Dwight and Angela have gotten back together._

_The weird title comes from Jake and Amir. (Jakeandamir dot com)_

_Amir: I spent last week in a hospital. What I thought was Flinstone Vitamins was actually birth control. And I shouldn't have drank the whole bottie-bottle but I did… I got—_

_Jake: I don't think birth control comes in a bottle._

_Amir: Oh sheesh y'all, 'twas a dream!_

_Jake: Was it really?_

_Amir: Nay, it actually happened and it cost me a lot of grief and money._

_So yeah, the title basically has nothing to do with the story. I just named it that because this fic came to me in a dream. In other words: "Oh sheesh y'all, 'twas a dream!" And the dream was in itself based on a news report I once saw._

… … …

It was a Friday and, even though everyone knew of their relationship, Angela and Dwight still exchanged secretive smiles at work and only spoke to each other where no one could see them (except perhaps the cameras). And yet at the end of the day, they both got into his Trans Am and sighed.

"Should we go back to my farm? Mose is making pie tonight."

"Really? I thought he only made that on special occasions." Angela paused. "Anyway, you know I have to take care of my cats. Snowcone just had kittens, remember?"

"I thought that was months ago," Dwight pointed out.

"What's your point?" she asked defensively.

"Right. Your house it is, then," he said, hiding his disappointment.

… … …

"I don't know what's wrong with her," Angela was explaining as they entered her house. She set her keys down on the table and started organizing her cabinets distractedly. "It's been ever since she gave birth. If she doesn't get enough attention, she hisses at the other cats and starts knocking things over."

Dwight waved this statement off as if it were no big deal. "Pshaw. I used to have a couple of horses who would kick things over all the time. Chairs, buckets… other horses."

Angela looked at him with the mild fascination she felt every time he told a bizarrely true story.

"So what did you do about them?" she asked in the voice of someone who was both eagerly anticipating and dreading the answer.

Dwight shrugged. "Nothing. Animals knock things over all the time on Schrute Farms. We usually ignore it, unless it's causing a major problem."

Angela turned away from cleaning her cabinets to clean the dining room table. "Well, I don't live on a farm. I live in a small house which I like to keep tidy. Maybe one day…."

She trailed off as she caught sight of the view on the other side of the room. She gestured at the cat nip strewn all over the floor; presumably the bowls had been overturned by a distressed Snowcone.

Dwight bit into an apple which could have come from many places, but probably came from the most absurd one. "Maybe she's jealous of the kittens," he suggested, his mouth half full.

"Well, I do give them a lot of attention," Angela said thoughtfully. "But that's because they're so cute! Aren't you so cute?!"

The three kittens she was addressing blinked at her blankly.

"Wait, what happened to the fourth one?" Dwight wanted to know as he took a step into the dining room.

"Oh, he's the shy one. He's probably in the basement."

Ash wandered into the room and said, "Meow."

"D? Can you put some food in Ash's bowl?" Angela requested as she gently picked up a kitten, which she stroked in a way that might remind one of a _James Bond_ villain.

Dwight obligingly gave Ash cat food, then decided to see whether the cat liked apple cores. Apparently not. When he looked back up, he saw Angela cuddling with her kittens.

"You came here to spend time with Snowcone, not the kittens," he reminded her.

She reluctantly put down the furry animals and called, "Snowcone! Where are you? Snow?"

Angela looked in all her cats' favorite hiding places: under chairs, behind appliances, and between pieces of furniture.

"Where is she?" Dwight asked, following her into the living room.

"If I knew then I wouldn't be searching all over the place!" she cried, exasperated.

"Ok. You don't have to be so mean."

"I'm not being mean." She rolled her eyes while he sulked. "…I'm sorry."

He grinned wickedly and said, "I accept your apology."

Then he was holding her so their bodies were pressed against each other, and kissing her so deeply that it looked like a scene from an awkward romance novel.

She pushed herself away from him and said, "Dwight! Not now!"

"Oh, do you want me to set the mood first?" he questioned, lighting a vanilla-scented candle.

"No, I meant not in front of the cats!"

His eyes searched the room until he spotted the cat to which she was referring. Ash was in a coma-like sleep on the white couch.

"Oh," Dwight muttered.

"I'm disgusted by your inappropriate behavior," Angela said, disgusted by his inappropriate behavior.

She sighed and took his hand, leading him into a room without any cats in it. She shut her bedroom door firmly behind them.

… … …

A "meow" resounded throughout the living room, but it wasn't coming from Ash. Snowcone emerged from her hiding place and prowled about, tail in the air. She suddenly jumped up onto a table and knocked over a stack of magazines, all of which were about cats or religion (and one about farming). Apparently not satisfied, she swished her tail, sweeping a vanilla candle over and into the curtains.

As the curtains turned into a red hot blaze, the startled cat hissed loudly. The sound woke up Ash, and the two darted out of the room in a panic.

… … …

"Oh, D," Angela gasped as his lips found the soft skin of her neck.

"Wait," Dwight said, removing his hands from under her shirt. "Did you hear that?"

"What? I didn't hear anything. Come on."

She started to lean in to him again, but he gently stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"No, really. I heard something in the other room."

Angela looked confused, but still followed him out of her room, to the smell of smoke and the sight of half her living room on fire.

"Oh, my—Dwight!"

"Your house is on fire," Dwight said calmly.

Then they exchanged a look.

Then they got the hell out of there.

… … …

"Hello? Yes, my girlfriend's house is burning to the ground right now," Dwight said into his cell phone once they were outside.

As he gave the 911 operator her address, Angela's eyes filled with tears. Noticing this, Dwight hung up and put his arm around her.

"Monkey. Everything's going to be ok."

"How do you know?"

"You're right. I don't know. Question, where are all your cats?"

"I trained them how to escape in case of an emergency, thank God."

"Good thinking," Dwight said, watching the cats assemble at her feet.

Angela took a deep breath. "My cats are safe, but everything else… it's all going to be destroyed."

"It's all right," Dwight tried to comfort her. "The fire department will be here soon." He pulled her closer and, seeing that she was still upset, added, "It'll be just like when Ryan started the fire at work. Only this time it's all your possessions being burnt to a crisp."

"Not helpful," Angela said, moving away from him to pick up Snowcone.

Before Dwight could reply, the sound of sirens pierced the air in quite an obnoxious manner.

"They're here," Dwight pointed out as Angela shielded the three youngest cats' ears from the noise. "Don't worry, they know what they're—wait, are you sure all your cats are here?"

"What? I can't hear you!" Angela shouted over the sounds the firefighters had brought with them, as they began to pull into her driveway.

"Your cats! There are only three kittens!"

"One, two... Where's Pippin? Oh my God, he must still be in the basement! Dwight!!"

"Are you two all right? Any burns?" a fireman who had appeared at their side asked in an urgent tone. "Are there any more people in the building?"

"We're fine, but there's a kitten inside that house," Dwight answered quickly.

"You have to save him!" Angela pleaded. "He's in the basement."

"We're going to do the best we can," the man assured her, indicating the group already extinguishing the growing flames, before he rushed to their aid.

Angela began to panic. "If he dies, it's all my fault!"

"He's not going to die," said Dwight. "I'm sure they're going in to rescue him right now." The two gazed at the firefighters, all of whom remained outside the house. "Or… I'll be right back."

He sprinted up to the firefighter he'd just been talking to. "Maybe you didn't hear me the first time. There's a cat inside the house. You need to save him because the last time I killed one of her cats she got very upset and if this one dies it would ruin the entire evening! Are you listening to me?"

"Sir," the firefighter said through his mask. "We're very busy right now. We'll try to rescue any animals if conditions permit. Now please, it's not safe for you to be so close to the—"

"Screw that, I'm a fire marshal."

"Where?"

"I'm going in."

Angela watched as Dwight disappeared into the smoke. She saw one of the firemen trying to wave at him, but could not hear what he was saying. Snowcone was writhing in her arms. Keeping her eyes on the house, she let her cat jump to the ground. A minute passed. Then another. Angela grew visibly more upset as each moment crawled by.

"Where is he?" Angela said, to no one. She started to pray, mostly for the safety of her love, but also her kitten and house. "Please God, please let Dwight be okay. Take all my possessions, but save him."

Ash mewled at her feet. She looked down at him, then dared to sneak a look back at the burning house. Dwight was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, no." She sank to the ground in despair. Her knees were in the dirt, and her hands clutching her face were smudging her mascara, but she didn't seem to care. A few cats crawled to her, puzzled, but Angela said nothing except, "He's gone," over and over again.

After a short while, a fireman walked up to her to say, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. Your, um, friend went into the house. We sent a few guys in to look for him, but they couldn't find him."

She looked up and wiped a tear out of her eye. "Did they check the basement?"

"I don't think so, Ma'am. Listen, the good news is that we've got the fire mostly extinguished now, so if he's in there, we'll get him."

Angela shook her head sadly. "What if… what if he's—"

"For future reference, Angela, your cat does not like fire."

"Dwight?" Her head snapped up to see him trying to stop Pippin from climbing up a tree. "You're alive!"

She was standing up and embracing him as he replied, "Of course," as if it were obvious.

"And you saved Pippin," she added, gently picking up the kitten.

"I save any animal named after a _Lord of the Rings_ character."

"He's not named after _Lord of the Rings_, he's—never mind."

The fireman interrupted, "Eh… just doing my job. Heh heh." Dwight and Angela both glared at him. "Please don't tell my boss."

… … …

Mose was baking a pie when the two walked in the door.

"But D, where are my cats going to stay?" Angela was asking for the third time that evening.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I'm sure they'll like it here at Schrute Farms."

As he was saying this, Ash happily ran around the kitchen then hid under the table.

"See?" Dwight asked smugly, his point proven.

"Fine."

"Hi," Mose interjected.

"Hey Mose, Angela's going to stay here for a while because her house burned down," Dwight explained.

Mose blinked. "I made pie."

… … …

Later that night, Angela was in Dwight's bedroom, watching the news on mute as she reorganized her night stand.

"Oh my gosh. Dwight, get in here!" she called him.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's _wrong_. Look!" she pointed at the television, turning the volume up.

"_Earlier today, a house was on fire," the female anchor was whining. "A man allegedly went into the burning house against the wishes of the firefighters to save his girlfriend's cat."_

"_We had the situation under control," a fireman told the news crew. "We were doing everything we could to save the animal. Had this man not been trained in fire safety, he would have been seriously hurt."_

"_The citizen, identified as Dwight Schrute," the reporter continued, "claims that the firemen were not doing enough to help rescue the cat."_

"_How you like me now, David Wallace?" Dwight asked the camera. "Training people about fire safety doesn't seem like such a bad idea now, I bet."_

_Next to him, Angela shook her head. "I'm just glad he's alive." She held up Pippin and amended, "I'm glad they're both alive."_

_Back in the news room, the male anchor commented, "That's a sweet story."_

"_It is," agreed the female anchor. "And, he's planning on proposing to her tonight."_

"Wait, what?" Angela asked in surprise. "Dwight, what was—?"

But she stopped short when she turned around to see Dwight kneeling on the floor holding a ring. Not for the first time that day, Angela began to cry. But this time she let the tears roll down her cheeks and drop to the floor, marking the exact spot where she stood during the happiest moment of her life.

… … …

_Update coming soon, maybe..._

_Please review :)_


End file.
